Chapter Thirteen

The torrential rainstorm couldn’t keep him off the turnpike that night. Nick’s eyes remained focused on the road even though his mind was already home. Home. Tampa. It was where he could be his own person without too much scrutiny.

AJ had wanted Nick to stay in Orlando that night. He was alone and hated his own company. Brian and Kevin were occupied with their families. Howie was busy helping with the final details of his upcoming Lupus event. As much as Nick could empathize with AJ, he wasn’t willing to give up his final weekends in Tampa before the tour. He’d been tempted to invite AJ home but that would mean exposing his friendship with Mel. Although there was nothing clandestine about it, Nick suspected his intentions would come under a microscope, and damned if he wanted to explain it anyway.

He shook his head to break the spell of the windshield wipers’ hypnotic rhythm. The miles passed quickly for him with his own thoughts for company. He wasn’t really sure how he got there, but he found himself standing in front of Samantha and Melanie’s apartment. He could hear their laughter and smiled to himself at the comparative normalcy of their world. Brent’s booming laugh followed. They’d started the weekend without him and he briefly felt a twinge of jealousy. Nick enjoyed the simplicity of their lives. It was his escape from pop stardom.

He tapped lightly on the door, reluctant to disrupt the mood. Mel stood smiling before him. The mirth in her eyes and the happiness of the moment engaged her face. Her tousled black hair hung in loose curls around her face and her coloring was tinged with a coppery hint of a burn, all signs of a day at the beach. She’d been enjoying her leisure time now that classes were over. Nick tried not to stare but the revealing bathing suit that she wore made it impossible.

“So. . . ? Are you just gonna stand there and gawk, or are you coming in?”

“I guess I’ll just stand here and gawk. The view’s pretty good. Hey Brent, Sam.” Brent jumped up to greet his friend. Samantha smiled demurely.

“Good to see ya, dude. Ya coming out with us tonight?”

“Hell, yeah, especially if the girls are going in those bathing suits. Didn’t it rain here today? It was shit in Orlando.”

“No, man, the rain just started.” Nick shrugged at the disparity between the two cities. He turned his attention back to Melanie and held an envelope high and out of her grasp.

“Guess what I got?” Mel had expected Nick to bring the VIP pass to Lupus 2003. She raised an eyebrow and waited for him to give it to her. “It’s a one way ticket to Howie Dorough’s heart, and you owe me, baby.” Melanie chuckled at the corny line and tugged the envelope from his hand. He could be such a geek.

“Yeah, whatever.” She opened it and stared at the ticket for what seemed liked ages. Despite her attempts at nonchalance, she could feel her throat constrict with emotion. The thought of Howie filled her with indescribable angst. Not aware that the others were watching, Melanie sighed. She was both scared and excited, but mostly she was grateful to Nick. “Thank you.” She said softly.

He was struck by the expression she wore on her face. She really did love Howie. Nick occasionally wondered if time had healed her broken heart. Melanie seldom spoke of it. They had forged their own bond, separate from Backstreet. He hadn’t considered how much he would miss her if she left his hometown for the other coast.

“No sweat. I promised you.”

Samantha and Brent quietly observed them. Over the recent months, they’d gotten used to an undercurrent in their friends’ communication.

~~~~~~~~~~~

The sun peeked over the horizon, casting a pinkish hue on the relatively tranquil surface of the Gulf cove. The yacht was still docked at its pier and all but one of it inhabitants slept peacefully, the gently lapping waves serving as their lullaby. Melanie sat on the deck, her legs outstretched on the upholstered cushions of the bench. She felt so at one with her surroundings, absorbing the peacefulness of the dawning of a new day. A few squawking gulls argued loudly over their daily food ration. They were the only disruption to an otherwise idyllic scene.

Mel took a gulp of water from her bottle. She had partied too much last night. They all had, even continuing on the boat until the wee hours of the morning. Eventually Samantha and Brent disappeared into a guestroom, and she and Nick remained in the yacht’s lounge. Both ignored the sounds emanating from the bedroom and Nick suggested they adjourn to the upper deck. He fell asleep quickly while she bore her soul to him. Her indignation gave way to self-deprecating laughter, and she resignedly pulled out a blanket from the bench storage to cover him. He had already been exhausted without her bombarding him with her emotion. At the best of times, Nick couldn’t cope with that.

She looked at him thoughtfully. The breeze lifted the fine blonde strands that hung over his eyes. She resisted the temptation to brush them off his face. He needed a cut, and as mutinously curly as her hair was in the Floridian humidity, his was straight. In any case, the guys would have a session with their stylists before the tour began. Not that any of them really needed it. Nick was downright pretty, and his beach bum good looks had mass appeal.

“Whatcha lookin at?”

“You.”

“So. . . ?”

“So? What?”

“Whadya think?” Melanie paused for a moment, reflecting on her answer.

“You’re alright, Nick Carter. For all your goofiness, you’ve got a good heart. I definitely like you.”

Nick sat up, holding his hand over his eyes to shield them from the bright morning sun. He looked her straight in the face to see if she was ridiculing him, and saw only sincerity there. He broke into smile. Mel returned a brilliant one but, at once, chastised herself later for succumbing so easily to his charm.

He stretched out again on the deck bench. The sense of peace they both felt near water settled over them. It must have been an hour before either spoke.

“I was thinkin’ that you should go shopping for a really hot outfit for Howie’s thing.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“Don’t worry ‘bout the price, I’ll pay for it. You probably gotta go t. . . t.” Mel tried to interrupt. “. . . to Miami,” he finished.

“No! Nick!” He held up a hand to dismiss her objections.

“Ya need a new sexy dress for this, and I know college kids don’t have money. I like to share with my friends.”

“That’s really kind of you but I’ve got money” she protested. “You don’t know much about me, do you?”

Nick snorted, “I know you’re ornery.”

“I’ve got money.”

“Baby, I didn’t say you were poor. I just said I’d pay for your dress. Most girls would jump at it.”

“No. I’d feel like I was taking advantage of you. You already got the ticket for me, and you’ve done plenty. I can get my own dress. . . but thanks.”

Melanie crossed over to Nick’s bench and sat down. She picked up his hand to squeeze it. When she leaned across and lightly touched his lips with her own, he lay still, and held his breath. His sleep-addled mind was in shock. Before he could react, she was heading downstairs towards the kitchen.

“I’ll get us some coffee.” She said in a loud whisper.

Nick would return to Tampa one more time before the tour. He wanted to be certain all his household affairs were in order, that the guesthouse was ready for Mel, in her dog-sitter role. After much consideration, he decided to invite Sandy as his date, to the Lupus event. He had filled her in on Howie and Melanie’s saga, leaving out the identity of the “other” man.

Mel took Nick’s suggestion to shop in Miami for her outfit. Bal Harbor and South Beach both had stores that easily rivaled those on Rodeo Drive. Although she lived frugally, few knew that it was by choice, not necessity. It was the one way she was able to assert her independence from the tenuous grasp of her parents. They did pay her college dues and there was a generous allowance made available for expenses. Her part time job covered her most basic needs and she seldom touched the rather hefty bank account. A designer dress, even one on sale, would be the exception.

The diaphanous layers of silk slipped over her head and down around her body. It had the muted tones of a watercolor painting blended in shades of green, blue and purple, which flowed from light to dark fabric as it approached the uneven hemline of the dress’ skirt. The Victorian high neck fastened with one button at the back and was in contrast to the fully open back that dipped down to the gathered waist. Glistening earrings dangled from her ears, peaking out from under her long hair that had been styled straight for the night and lay draped over the bare shoulders that the cutaway arms exposed. She smiled at the mirror, giving herself the once over before leaving her room.

Samantha gasped and Brent let out a low whistle. “Oh man, Howie’s a gonner,” he uttered. Samantha agreed even if the high-heeled champagne colored sandals would make Mel tower over the object of her affection.

Melanie drove herself to Universal’s Hard Rock Café. She was so overcome with nerves that she could barely breathe. Sitting in the VIP parking lot, she flipped down the mirror in her car to check her appearance once more. All her doubts erupted in a one-sided conversation with herself.

“You’re kidding yourself, you know that. What if he totally ignores me, or worse, he’s with someone else. Oh God, I’m just gonna want to die—especially if he feels sorry for me. Stop it. STOP IT. I don’t know what I was thinking but if I were smart, I’d just drive out of here, right now, with my dignity in tact. Yeah. . . and no Howie. But he’s not worth my self-worth. Shut up! If I don’t go for it, how will I ever know if we had a chance? And what would Nick say? Who the hell cares? He’s the reason I’m not with Howie. I’m such a fuck up. Most people search their lives for their soul mate and I had to cheat on mine. I’ve gotta go home before I embarrass myself. I must have been crazy to think I could come. It’s time--”

Her phone interrupted her rambling. Taking a look at the call display, she decided to ignore it. The caller was persistent, hanging up and calling again several times before the ringing demanded a response.

“Nick. You’re harassing me. I’m still driving. I can’t talk.”

“BULLSHIT. Carlos mentioned that he saw you pull into the garage. Where the hell are you? You better not be driving back home, or I’ll come get you myself.”

“Oh perfect. So much for our cover,” she snorted indignantly.

“I don’t care about that. You’re the one. I’ve been respecting how you feel about letting Howie know we’re friends.” Nick knew he was lying but justified his statement for the cause. “Don’t let me down.” His voice took on a coaxing tone. “Hey babe, don’t let yourself down. You and How deserve this. Come on…come show off all that hard work of yours and Sandy’s. You’ll know you’ll be sorry if you don’t.”

He heard her sniff and knew she was mustering up the courage to follow through. “See ya soon,” he whispered before hanging up.

The first steps she took in the club were the most intimidating. She had not anticipated the countless women gathered on the premises and initially appreciated her relative obscurity. As the cocktail hour and Howie’s meet and greet progressed, she became concerned that neither Nick nor Howie would notice her. The concert was starting in less than a half hour, and Mel had already downed two white wines and a shot of tequila.

Her fears were proven unfounded when she heard Nick say harshly, “Hey, take it easy on that stuff.”

“Good to see you too, Nick.” Her sugary response was lost on him. The eager crowd seemed to swallow him up. Melanie found herself on the periphery of the group, smiling stiffly at Sandy whom she wasn’t sure understood the circumstances.

“Well, I had better go find my seat,” muttered Mel.

It was in the second row, on the right hand side of the stage. She was noticeable but not obvious. The problem was that if Howie observed her, he gave no indication of it. So disappointed was she, that it took all her pride and will to remain seated throughout his performance. By the time the other performers came on, Mel felt numb and a stoic smile remained frozen on her face.

Both Nick and Sandy cast discreet looks her way. Nick fought the urge to go and hug her. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears and he knew her heart was breaking, He was also sure that Howie had no heart at all. Bastard.

Nick’s assumptions about Howie weren’t entirely correct. He had seen her, almost from the time she’d arrived. There was only the luxury of a moment for him to quietly observe her. She’d changed. There was a vulnerability to her that made him feel protective, and yet, he was angry that she was there. His physical attraction to her frustrated him even more. She’d broken his heart in a million different pieces. How could he possibly still want her, and yet, he did? An almost primitive need to be by her side made him decide to withdraw from any possible contact with her.

With the show over and the crowd milling around, Melanie thought she’d make good her escape. She hadn’t seen Nick in a while which wasn’t a bad thing. It made it much easier to leave unimpeded. Slithering through the noisy group, she concentrated on reaching the exit. She would return to Tampa, and put this chapter of her life behind her. If only she hadn’t consented to taking care of Nick’s dogs while he was away. She would only find peace when she distanced herself from all that was Backstreet. That--sadly enough--included Nick.

Lifting her eyes to the bouncer at the door, she requested her leave. Envisaging her freedom, she took a deep breath as she watched the door open. The sensation of cold damp fingers, on her back, stopped her in her tracks. She knew whose they were. A bolt of shock ran hot through her as she turned to their owner.

“I tried to stay away from you but I can’t let you go without. . . ” His words were drowned out by the increasing excitement of those who noticed their elusive host.

She heard him shout over the din, “Please stay.” Melanie denied the desperation in his expression and shook her head. She had to go before she made a bigger fool of herself.

“I can’t, Howie. I just can’t.” She repeated. “This was a terrible mistake.”

He didn’t hear her words. She hadn’t expected he would.